The Burning Sword- Virtual Writer 2010's Challenge

~*~*~*~Won first place in Virtual Writer 2010's challenge~*~*~*~
Rosie has never been entirely happy with her life in a small mountain village; rather than darning socks and feeding chickens, she wants to do something worthwhile, something that she enjoys. When the men of the village are caused to form an army, Rosie knows that this is her chance to break the mould.

But women can’t fight! So she is told, but after a mysterious discovery, is that really the case?

(My fail of a cover art is not my background picture, by the way, it's from Chonastock on deviantart.com)
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Chapters:

His face was deathly white. If
you squinted you could almost see through him, though perhaps the
fact that he was violently shaking with fear had something to do
with his transparency.

They watched, apprehensive, curious, scared. Some covered their
eyes, others steeled themselves to watch, knowing they would be
next.

His stomach cramped, as if it were a cloth being wrung to get all
the water out of it. He stepped forward, bare-chested and
vulnerable, hoping his knees wouldn't collapse with terror.

"Close your eyes." There was no sympathy in that voice. He
obeyed, plunging his world into cold darkness. His arm was
seized, fingers pressed onto something rough.

An intense icy pressure touched his chest, he felt the skin there
part, and a warm feeling melted the cold one, trickling down to
his stomach.

The pain reached him, and his breathing sped up, panicked. He
heard a loud crack, magnified in amplitude by the fact that he
had been robbed of his sight.

They said I wouldn't die. They said I wouldn't be in danger. He
realised suddenly that 'they' might not be as trustworthy as he
had previously thought.

Something was pressed against the fresh wound- he felt sure it
wasn't a clean bandage- and the pressure of it sent spiky darts
of fresh pain across his body.

Suddenly he felt his legs go numb, and the numbness spread,
shooting up to his chest, swallowing his body. Then it seized
him, and he crumpled to the floor, his eyes rolling back,
convulsing as he lost all control, and the last thing he heard
was his own terrified heartbeat drumming in his ears.

"Good." The cold voice rang out amongst them, icier than
midwinter frost.
The silence that met him seemed to chime with fear, as all who
stood before him avoided eye contact, staring at their feet as if
they were the most interesting things they had ever seen. The
voice gave a merciless laugh. "Which one of you wants to go
next?"